


Casimir Pulaski Day

by graduating_pitch



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cancer, F/F, First fic and it's just angst, Illinois, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mentions of Cancer, Religious Content, Songfic, whoops sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-18 04:30:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13674303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graduating_pitch/pseuds/graduating_pitch
Summary: Goldenrod and the 4H stone, the things I brought you when I found out you had cancer of the bone...Fic inspired/practically leeched off Sufjan Steven's Casimir Pulaski Day





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello world
> 
> I've been writing to take my mind off everything
> 
> And among other things that resulted in this
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Beca placed the stone and the flowers on the bench, eyes already red rimmed with tears. They hadn't even talked about it yet, but they both knew. Chloe couldn't even look her in the eye. The same Chloe who smelled like violets, transient and sweet, the Chloe who ran to hug Beca everyday they met. This was the Chloe who had been with her almost every day of her life, and now she was dying. Beca didn't like the world that had opened up between them. Beca had to say something, anything, to break the terrible silence.

 

"You look beautiful you know?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
Shit, shit, shit. Beca really didn't know what to say. Her brain had supplied a single thought. A singularity of thought. Pulling everything that Beca was in that moment to it.

 

"I just... I've never told you that before."

 

Beca continued, slow and steady, like she was trying to process her own words as they flowed out of her mouth.

 

"You should know that you look beautiful in every moment. When I get in the car for school each morning. When you walk with me after church on Sundays. When we're out, just the two of us, and there's nothing in the world that makes me happier than you. You should know that, before anything else. You should know that it's unfair, I don't know why God woul-"

 

Chloe's crying again, but she's staring Beca straight in the eye now. Like she understands what Beca is talking about. That Beca holds her above everything else. That maybe at the end of everything, she's found everything, right next to her, where it's been the entire time.

 

Beca pulls Chloe into a tighter hug and sobs with her, swelling with emotion that she can't place, the overwhelming tide filling her entirely.

 

-

 

"Beca, I'm sorry."

 

"Mr. Beale, it's not your fault."

 

"If I had just let her be happy. If I hadn't worried her so much with what I said that morning..."

 

It seemed Chloe's father had lost himself in memory, to the harsh winds that blew into his phone with sibilance.

 

"She was so beautiful, you know? My little fading flower. I loved her, treasured her so much. But it wasn't enough. Nothing at all was enough."

 

Beca could have done so much more too. She could have fought just a little harder, chased a little further, loved just a little bit more, if only she had the time, if Chloe had the time to be loved as she deserved. She never had the right things to say, the right way to move on. She was truly powerless in the moment, she couldn't change Chloe's future, Chloe's mother's future, Chloe's father's future.

 

"Please don't go."

Beca's voice was a whisper, a ghost in the empty halls.

 

"You know I have to.  You have your whole life to live. Mine is over. It's all over."

 

The crackling winds rumbled violently against Beca's ear, a whirlwind of desperation pulsating loudly into her eardrum.

 

"Mr. Beale please!"

 

"Good bye Beca. Forgive me."

 

The line went dead to the sound of revving engine.

 

-

 

Beca usually wouldn't be caught dead this early on a Saturday, but her grandma had left her glasses at their house and her father was out already. At least the weather wasn't terrible, Beca mused. Illinois this time of this year was usually freezing, but the sun sometimes came out on days like this. Beca watched the sun's rays, enchanted, as they struck the wet grass, glistening. Illuminated the pavement to a stunning yellow. Streamed through the Beales' windows.

 

And Beca stopped in that moment, and really took Chloe in, for the first time in a long time.

 

Her and Chloe had always been close, always seen each other often since Beca's family had moved from the West Coast.

 

But Beca never remembered seeing Chloe like this, red hair blazing from the sun. Eyes dipped in concentration, biting her lip ever so slightly. She sat in the living room chair by the window, the same one that Beca had once been chased by the dog to. The light danced off her hair, her shoulderblades, her clothes. She was reading from some sort of scrapbook, with handwritten letters. She studied with such interest, Beca was helplessly drawn in.

 

_She looks beautiful._

Beca didn't realize how terribly close she was until she almost tripped over the garden gnomes that Mr. Beale had bought as a joke last Christmas. Her mind scrambling for any reason to be that close to the window without coming off as a complete creeper, she closed the final distance and knocked on the glass.

 

Chloe looked up, at first with confusion, but just as quickly ignited a smile, bright as the headlights Beca felt she was caught in.

 

But it was a wonderful trap to be ensnared by.

 

-

 

Kissing Chloe was like touching the summer sky, or dancing with the stars in your eyes. Kissing Chloe was a rush that flew through Beca a thousand times over, spiraling her to new heights faster and faster. Beca never wanted to stop kissing Chloe. They broke apart for air, still holding each other's faces as close as they could. Beca's mind was a tornado, all her thoughts joyfully tossed around in her head, unable to gather.

 

But when Beca's eyes met Chloe's, they were unsteady. Unfocused, unsure. She was lost in her own head again, thinking about things that Beca couldn't really understand.

 

"What's wrong?"

 

Beca's stupid mouth again. Of course she knew what was wrong, they both did. Even if Chloe did like her, even this was what she wanted. This wasn't something that she could have. This wasn't something they could just share forever.

 

Everything was ruined, everything was wrong. It wasn't supposed to be like this, they were supposed to be forever. Beca had just found Chloe, the real Chloe underneath her layers.

 

"You can't do this Beca."

"Why not?"

Beca challenged it. All of it. The world taunting her with temporality, with the most wonderful thing in life. Just to take it from her. Beca stared it in the face and dared it to destroy her.

 

"Just let me go. Promise me you'll do that."

 

Beca couldn't do that. Beca couldn't tear herself to pieces when she was finally whole. The should have been and would have beens could come later. She was still in high school, still just a kid, wasn't she allowed to be in love and dumb, make a couple more mistakes then necessary?

 

"No."

 

Chloe laughed, deep in her gut. Beca could feel Chloe shake against her, body wracked by peals of laughter. She couldn't help but laugh too, laugh at the ridiculous world they lived in, where all they needed was each other, and that was all they couldn't have.

 

"Can you kiss me again?"

 

That was something Beca could do.


	2. Chapter 2

"And we know, that of which we do not know, in the ways we cannot understand your glory, those the ways we cannot understand your grace, and loving. We pray for guidance, we pray for protection, as we go about the paths you have set for us."

 

"In Jesus' name, amen."

 

They all look up at the same time, some more bleary eyed then others. Bible study had gone overtime by a fair amount, and Beca was eager to leave to get out some music ideas stuck in her head before she went to bed. While some other kids would try to prove their piety by helping clean up, Beca was well and truly ready to call it a night.

 

And looking at her, so was Chloe. She still had 4 of the more zealous kids around her, but she turned her face to Beca and gave her a long stare. Like she wasn't just tired of being sick, but she was tired of being helped. Having to be helped, not being able to do or even feel anything when anybody else was around. Tired of looking to a God who didn't feel the need to give answers immediately.

 

Beca didn't think about it too much, but when she did, she felt betrayed. All of them wanted Chloe to be better. All of them had prayed for it, some like Beca, night and day. Yet Chloe's health deteriorated more and more. Beca watched her waste away, helpless and longing.

 

Beca had only seen one miracle, when she was younger. As far as she was concerned, the time and place of miracles was far away, for those holy enough to dare have them. They were in the wild world, where nothing made sense except for the things that came to kill, steal and destroy. Not even faith made sense to Beca anymore, slowly becoming ever more irrational to her whenever the word Amen passed Chloe's throat.

 

-

 

Aubrey may have a stick and a half in her ass, but at least she owned a massive house that could fit almost all the youth group. Well, her parents owned it anyway. There was a pretty solid turnout tonight, which made what Beca and Chloe were doing even more dangerous. Even though Aubrey was one of Chloe's closest friends, Beca was sure that she wouldn't appreciate Chloe and "that barely a believer girl" making out in one of the three living rooms the house happened to have.

 

But Beca couldn't really focus on anything but the masterpiece in front of her, sprawled out and willing, eyes sparkling so bright. Beca could feel the heat of Chloe's body against her, overcharging her, overstimulating her. Chloe was everywhere, everything, and Beca was hers completely.

 

"Beca?" Chloe said, quietly strong.

 

"Yeah Chlo?"

 

"You know you can touch me right?"

Beca's heart spiked, threatened to tear itself out of her chest. Chloe's voice sounded so innocent, yet so daring. Like she knew exactly what she wanted, what Beca wanted, and threw everything out of her mind but that.

 

She pulled her torso up, anchoring herself on Beca, and put her head on Beca's shoulder. With a murmured "I love you," Chloe pressed her cheek against Beca's neck, grazing her, feeling her. Beca wanted her touch, all of it. Everywhere, anywhere. Chloe was the universe, a million stars in her skin, a galaxy in her eyes.

 

Chloe touched her lips to Beca's neck, gentle and quiet, humming deep into Beca's skin. Beca didn't think her heart rate could go any higher, she was sure Chloe could feel her chest jackhammer. It was so simple, so easy, yet so monumental, the movements that Chloe made. Beca made a move to undo Chloe's blouse buttons, but she fumbled with them, ended up with just tugging at the fabric as Chloe moved against her. She was raw, hungry to do what she couldn't quite fathom. She was just a girl, young and bold, confused and unknowing.

 

-

 

"CHLOE!"

 

Chloe's father was furious. Chloe clutched at Beca's hands as they moved to the top of the stairs. Beca heard the stomp of boots closer and closer. They shouldn't have done it. It was all Beca's fault.

 

"I'm scared." Chloe whispered, a prayer, a cry in the desert.

 

Chloe's father appeared from the dining room, twitching like a wild animal, stopping himself at the base of the stairs. He contained himself with an effort, breathing hard.

 

"Get your hands off my daughter," Chloe's father snarled, voice dipping into rage.

 

Chloe only gripped Beca's hands tighter. Beca felt trapped, constricted. She didn't want it to be like this, causing fights, raising tension. They only had so much time together, it couldn't go to waste.

 

"Can't you just let me be happy? You know I don't have that much time left."

 

Chloe had said it. The words that none of them really wanted to hear, but all knew. There wasn't escaping it. There wasn't ignoring it.

 

Still, Chloe's father continued in his anger.

"I won't have you throw away everything for this. It's not worth it, you hear me?"

 

Beca felt Chloe flinch. She watched as the tears formed on Chloe's face. She wanted to say something, say anything, but she felt so impotent in the moment. Not even her wildly impulsive mouth moved, she was stuck. She was breaking all their hearts, one by one.

 

"I'm going now, far away from you. Just leave me alone!"

 

Chloe dashed down the stairs, abandoning Beca, pushing past her father, stepping into her shoes and out the door.

 

Death followed close behind, the specter of tomorrow, the dark promise moving.

 

-

 

Even in her weakened state, Chloe was still faster than Beca, so Beca was forced to give up the chase, and slink tiredly back to the Beale household. As she did, she could see Chloe's father in the living room, through the windows, hands pressing hard against his face as he keeled over on the floor.

 

Beca slipped through the front door, hoping Chloe's father wouldn't notice.

 

But he did, and they both stared at each other, tears matching tears, sorrow matching sorrow.

 

Chloe's father whispered, serious and low, just like Chloe did.

 

"Her mother was like this too at the end. Living like she wanted to, to hell with the consequences. I didn't understand it then. I don't understand it now. When eternity is on the line, how could you not live righteous?"

 

He drew a sharp breath, eliciting a flinch out of Beca.

 

"But I fucked up this time, I can see that. They're both strong, Beca. Women whose minds cannot be changed. Beautiful, enchanting. You're... you're lucky to have Chloe."

 

He struggled with the words, his core shaken, his mind beaten and battered.

 

"And though you might not think it right now Beca, she's lucky to have you too."

 

"I-I... I'm sorry."

And she was. Sorry that it was like this. That they couldn't fight for what they all believed in because the world had other plans.

 

He continued like she hadn't said a word.

 

"Even though she's done this, turned away like this..."

 

The air was still. Time had stopped, in this little house, in this little suburb.

 

"I'll still be praying for her. Every day."

 

Delicate knocks echoed from the door.

 

Beca opened it to the sight of a weary Chloe, who collapsed in Beca's arms, trusting all of herself to Beca. Beca held onto her with everything, wishing the world away for just a little longer.

 

"Don't leave me."

They both knew it couldn't be true. Holding each other like this wasn't forever. Wasn't even a couple months from now.

 

"Chloe."

Her father spoke her name like a prayer.

 

Words were careless, Beca mused. This was what mattered. After everything. As nothing came closer and closer. We were helpless to love, helpless to move.

 

Beca stood aside, staring as father and daughter embraced.

 

"My little flower."

 

His voice was tight, the cracks in his character showing.

 

Chloe was beautiful in that moment, eyes watching Beca, being watched by Beca. But she was falling apart, Beca could see it. Her skin gaunt, her body like glass. Something had changed when she ran away, maybe she had exerted too much. Maybe she had realized that the sky was falling and the ground with it. That's how Beca felt at least, like she glimpsed the heavens as her vision tilted and her body moved downwards.

 

Chloe and her father opened their arms to let Beca into the hug, and they lay on the floor together, three bodies pressed tightly against each other, crying for the world to slow down.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the Sunday before, a quiet evening, when Beca found it. Chloe and her father had gone for a church event, but Beca was too tired. Everything was happening in swaths of color, too fast for Beca to understand, to comprehend. Beca wanted to remember Chloe as clearly as possible, but the time sped through her fingers, unstoppable. She wanted to be with Chloe all the time, but that meant she couldn't think about Chloe, all that was she was in the moments. So she let Chloe and her father have some family time, while she kept herself busy with the neglected housework.

 

Ever since that day when she ran, Chloe had been weaker than before, quieter than before. She had eventually stopped going to school, she sat in the living room most days, writing and reading. Her and Beca spent days barely even saying anything, just holding hands. They kissed slow, like Chloe was going to fall apart any second. Beca hated it because Chloe hated it, watching herself diminish, seeing the candle burn from both ends.

 

It seemed everyday came with a new understanding of how real it all was, how visceral dying really was. Chloe sweat all the time, sank her shoulders lower, and doubled over in pain when she thought no-one else was looking. She didn't respond fully to most things, just smiled when people acknowledged her.

 

So Beca was alone in the house, cleaning up the shelves in the living room, when she noticed a scrapbook in between the bible commentaries, with gold lined into its spine. Recognizing it, she pulled it out as fast as she could, then set it on the coffee table to study.

 

Oh. Of course this was what this was.

 

Chloe's mother on her wedding day. Chloe's mother on her graduation. Chloe, sweet Chloe being held by her mother.

 

All of the photos dated and signed with the same hasty scrawl.

 

And as the book continued, there were letters. All addressed to Chloe, barely legible handwriting, flowing over so many pages.

 

And Beca started sobbing, because they were for Chloe, but a Chloe that would never be. A Chloe that would grow old, graduate high school, get married. Letters for Chloe about children, about love. Letters from the dying past to a hopeless future.

 

Beca kept reading, past the ribbon bookmark that she had given Chloe when they were both little, to the last page.

 

With a deep breath, she took the letter, folded it up, and put it in her pocket.

 

-

 

Beca throws up in the hospital bathroom.

 

And heaves again, tries to let go of it all, but she has nothing left to give.

 

Nothing left but tears.

 

They've been sitting in the waiting room for 10 hours, through the night, and Beca can feel it in her gut, solid and deep. That every prediction, every prognosis of Chloe's condition was meaningless, that they had even less time than what they thought, and they had started with so little. That Beca might not even tell Chloe that she read the letter, that she gets it, that she wants forever. Just the two of them, nothing else.

 

Beca's a mess, hair mussed, shoes untied, neck sore. But she has to stay. For the slightest chance in the smallest possibility. Of all the worlds that could be, she has to see Chloe again.

 

She doesn't feel like she's truly alive, all of her is in Chloe's body, while the doctors and nurse throw themselves into the room to try to save her, while her body gives in the unrelenting tide. She's trapped, consciousness barely extending the walls of her skin, thoughts emanating in one direction, only one direction.

 

Every now and again, Chloe's father will try to put a steadying hand on her shoulder, but it's more for him than her, desperately trying to disprove that this is all real, that life has played him this hand. That God has chosen for this to happen, in these wicked ways.

 

Beca can only think of Chloe. Beautiful, rapturous Chloe. The lover of her soul, the keeper of her heart. When Beca looks up at the mirror after washing her face, she can only see Chloe. What Chloe would think of her. What Chloe would say. Anything to keep the notion that she lives on Beca's mind. Because the alternative is too much to bear.

 

-

 

The nurse runs in, with her head hung low.

 

Beca crumples. She feels it all, agonizingly slow. It seems the world has finally listened to her request, stopped time, in a terrible cruel fashion. It seems so fitting, that months of worry and angst end right here, the darkness coning in. Beca sobs on the floor, deep wracked breaths, trying to take it all back. Let her do it all again, let her suffer all again. Just bring Chloe back.

 

Didn't she know that she was beautiful, that she was the beauty in Beca's life? Did the world not understand that Beca had all she knew, all she needed in Chloe? Did God give her happiness so he could take it away?

 

In her periphery, she can hear Chloe's father break down too, can feel the layer of grief lay upon the room like a unshakable weight. Chloe's church friends, Aubrey included, remain stilled and silent. She can hear the cardinal slam his knuckles against the window, the viewpoint to which the rest of the world can know pain.

 

The sun bleeds in, early on the holiday. The heater runs with rattling effort. The hospital smell is choking, corroding, the last stop for their souls. Before they're all taken up with her, through her, out the sky, into eternity. Beca can still taste the bile in her mouth, bitter and vivid. She can feel the floor, hard and unforgiving, stretching out underneath her in miles. This moment will not leave her mind, ever again.

 

In it all, Beca can feel everything, the tension and release melding into one all encompassing emotion. Beca is helpless, the raging storm consuming her, becoming her, lost in a melody with a thousand lines, a dissonance of a thousand signs. All the lines converge, hardening and sharpening to the point that pierces Beca. Everything is here, everything is overwhelming her. Everything but Chloe, everything but her sweet presence by Beca's side, her knowing words into her neck. Her everything, Beca's everything.

 

It's gone.

 

-

 

Chloe's eyes are closed, her mouth the ghost of a smile. Beca can't move. She's entranced again, but this time in a purgatory spell, an unbelieving eye.

 

The nurses clean up, walk away, one by one. They've disconnected the monitors, the trays and table unthread to reveal a girl, taken too soon from this world. One arm slung over her stomach, one splayed at the edge of the bed. A hollow shell, a precious shell, for a soul, so much beyond any words that Beca could provide.

 

Chloe's father left, not even wanting to see the body, not wanting anything of this world anymore. Beca had wanted to say something, change something about him, save his lifeless eyes from the ocean. But she couldn't. She couldn't even feel anything for herself besides everlasting pain, regret, ceaseless roaring silence.

 

Wait.

 

Chloe just moved. She's breathing, she's breathing!

 

Beca lurches forward, with what is left of her feeble strength, only to be caught by Aubrey, her strong arms drawing her into a hug, letting her break down again.

 

"It's just a body, her soul is gone."

 

It's just a body, her soul is gone.

 

It was cruel, but in that moment Beca would learn to understand mercy, in the arms of a saint, the world betraying her but a woman of God teaching her everything once more.


	4. Chapter 4

Beca goes to church that Sunday. Sees the cross above the door, sees the sun streaming through the stained glass, through the stained glass of her eyes.

 

Sees Chloe every time she sees God.

 

_She looks beautiful._

 

She looks beautiful and so far away from Beca, like Beca's the one dead and Chloe went on to live, far better than this world gave her, far greater than anything that was to come in this life.

 

The sun streams through the windows, just like it did that morning, when Beca really saw everything for what it was, when everything began to unfurl in true motion. She was so afraid of forgetting, but right now everything reminds her of Chloe, the very fabric of the universe reminds her of Chloe.

 

The world reminds of her of Chloe, and it is very, very beautiful. Perhaps that's why she came to church, she wanted to see the beauty in everything. What might be after everything. Because she can see God now, somehow.

 

She knows exactly why.

 

Beca tries not to think about Chloe's father, what he had said.

 

The listlessness of it all. The way the world spins, slowly but surely tearing all of us apart. He believed in this too, Beca's mind reminds her, and look where he ended up. With Chloe, without her. You were both lost in the same ways.

 

She tries not to break down again, not in church.

 

Aubrey holds her hand all the way through, vice like and steady.

 

_When peace like a river, attendeth my way,_

_When sorrows like a sea billows roll;_

_Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say_

_It is well, it is well, with my soul._

 

-

 

Beca thought about Chloe every day after that.

 

Beca thought about Chloe as she finished high school, thought about Chloe when she moved back to the West Coast, thought about Chloe when she drove to work every day. Thought about how Chloe would sing, how Chloe would laugh, how Chloe always had the right thing to say, how Chloe would dance when it was just the two of them, how Chloe would kiss her.

 

Beca thought about how Chloe believed in something bigger than herself, how Beca didn't really believe in any of it until after Chloe left, Beca thought that Chloe would have completed her if she was still here, how she ended up doing it anyway, long after she was gone. Beca thought about Chloe when she went to church, when she prayed, when she sang hymns long after the day had died.

 

Beca thought about Chloe, and Chloe reminded her about her God.

 

All that time Beca had thought that Chloe had abandoned God, just as he seemed to abandon her. But after reading the letter, a thousand times, in a thousand places, Beca understood.

 

Faith occurred in the spaces where it shouldn't. Where there was nothing but to have faith. They had both mourned the little time they had on the earth when they truly had each other. But only Chloe had been thinking about forever. The forever where she had to wait for Beca, wait for the day where they would be together again. That was faith. Holding on the pureness of it all, despite the doubts. In the face of the doubts. In a way, the doubts formed the faith, because they made it impossible to believe in any other way.

 

Between Chloe, Beca, Chloe's father, only one of them had found peace at the end, until now. Beca had the proof in her life, had the proof in her faith, had the proof in a letter that a girl wrote for her all those years ago.

 

-

 

Her father is wonderful, he made everything, but above it all he made Chloe. He made Chloe wonderful, all that she was, was in his image. Her father was in everything, her success, her failures, her work, her rest. Her distraught, her peace. The fabric of the universe reminded her of him. The seen and the unseen, a window to his glory.

 

_He looked beautiful._

 

He looked beautiful when he gave her this life, this complicated tangle of wonder and woes. He looked beautiful when he roused Beca out of her sorrow. Showed her life again, both now and forever. When she was suffering, trying to wring out hope from a stone, he took her place.

 

He took her place, and he takes and he takes and he takes.


	5. Epilogue - Chloe's letter

_Dear Rebecca Mitchell,_

_I love you dearly, and I want nothing but the best for you._

_That's why I asked you that day to let me go. Not because it would make it easier, or make me any happier. But because the best of you isn't just someone waiting for me to die._

_That being said, I've so grateful, so happy that you refused, despite my misgiving. Your presence is a gift to me, your love is my most prized possession, that I will take with me to the next life._

_I don't fear it, not anymore. I know my time is short here, our time is short. But that doesn't scare me. The singular most terrifying about it is that I won't see you for a very long time, and that'll you worry._

_I hate that so much. I hate that you'll be broken when I go, that it'll seem like this all means nothing. That miracles aren't real, as opposed to everything and everyone being a miracle in themselves. It's why I couldn't handle bible study sometimes, because I hated seeing faiths eroding because of what I was going through._

_But I know it all comes to a good end, that everything still means something._

_Because I talked to God that night, that first night we kissed, and I heard something that I think you should know._

_That true love isn't just giving up everything, without thought or reason. True love is giving your intentions to the one you love, not giving them up. To live for what you believe in, and have be wholly and fully aligned to the one being you become with another._

_Words and works will just become signals for what's underneath, the complete joining of souls, the one flesh that love forms. Belief will be its past, and faith will be its future._

_Faith in something, in someone, is true love. It's all encompassing, in all the spaces that it perfectly fits, but more importantly, in the spaces it doesn't seem to. Faith is uncompromising at its course, and if you truly think about, completely irrational._

_That's what makes it holy, makes it right. It's so different that you know it cannot be anything but faith._

_I have faith in you._

_I have faith in a God too._

_I have faith in both of these things, and that one of days, that you'll know faith too._

_Because I have faith that we'll see each other again, long after the world tears itself into shreds. Because we'll have faith._

_I love you Beca, and I know we will be forever._

_Amen,_

_Chloe Beale._


End file.
